


Beets of Wrath

by misura



Category: Oglaf (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 02:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Greir and Vanka discuss professional standards.





	Beets of Wrath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voleuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voleuse/gifts).



Greir did not wonder when her life had taken a wrong turn; she knew quite well.

Sexily sauntering next to her, the cause of all her recent trouble had started whistling one of those songs that got stuck in your head forever and ever, by way of adding aural assault to insult.

"This partnership isn't working for me," said Greir. She'd have preferred to offer the line after a _fait accompli_ \- say, after she'd turned in Vanka to some sort of authority for a hefty reward, or maybe just her head or something, but circumstances had conspired against her, and now here she was, not alone and having a staggering amount of negative fun.

Vanka stopped whistling, which Greir knew to be a feint. Besides, she already had the song running through her head now, so it was yet another case of too little, too late.

"I'm a mercenary," said Greir. "People pay me to do things for them."

Vanka smirked. " _I_ could - "

"Things like killing other people," said Greir. "Or stealing things." Which was how she'd gotten herself into this mess to begin with. "Or rescuing princes." Or frogs, as the case might be, although Greir felt she'd been perfectly in her right to point out that the contract hadn't specified the prince had to look human - or be delivered without the rest of his pond.

Vanka scoffed. "Princes."

"My point is, I'm a professional," said Greir. "I try to keep a professional reputation."

Vanka stopped walking and turned to look her. "Are you accusing me of not being a professional?"

Greir frowned.

"I'm a great thief!" said Vanka. "In fact, I'm so light-fingered, I gave you a hand job just now and you - "

"I noticed," said Greir. "It wasn't that good. Hardly what I'd call a professional level of hand jobs."

Vanka scowled. "Well, I'm a thief, not a handiman (m/f)."

"Last job we took, you stole the reward money," said Greir, deciding not to dwell on the subject of hand jobs. It might lead to the subject of blow jobs, and then she might get distracted from the point she was trying to make. "That's not professional behavior."

"I'm a thief." Vanka shrugged. "I steal stuff."

"They were going to pay us to steal the Crown of Ever-Lasting Golden Glory."

"Probably a wig," said Vanka. "I'm not going to risk my life for a wig."

"Before that, there was the reward for capturing the leader of a group of bandits."

"I like bandits," said Vanka. "Some of my best friends are bandits."

"Before _that_ \- " Greir paused.

"The Snow Queen!" said Vanka. "I'm not risking getting my tongue frozen off for a few hundred gold pieces. Or any other part of my body."

"That's because you're not a professional. A professional can think in terms of solutions, rather than problems."

Vanka narrowed her eyes. "Now that you mention it, those people back there seemed to recognize you."

"I was there two years ago," said Greir. The year after that, they'd lowered the reward. Then this year, of course, they'd canceled it entirely, thanks to Vanka and her lack of professionalism.

"You mean you came there two years ago," said Vanka. "Wow. So that's your type?"

Greir pictured the way this conversation would spin out if she claimed that she'd only come here for the reward. "Aren't they offering a sizeable reward for the delivery of your corpse a few kingdoms back?"

"A cartload of beets and a small sack of apples - oh, wait." Vanka grinned, producing an apple. "Just the beets. Tempted?"

Greir decided not to ask. It would give Vanka entirely too much satisfaction. "What would I do with a cartload of beets?"

Vanka bit into the apple. "Exactly."

Greir sighed.

"Nevertheless," said Vanka.

"No," said Greir.


End file.
